September 29, 2011 - 0405

An early one to be sure. I looked back on some of the things I have written about, and I saw a definite pattern. Long, boring nights with not much going on. My peer at the department chewing my ear for a couple of hours every week. And occasional excitement or arrests. I will continue to showcase the excitement when it happens, but I want to move away from the mundane crap that happens around the department. If you're a cop, you know that midnight shift is a dead one. They don't call it the graveyard shift for nothing.

So, in that line, I have a summary of tonight's activities, and then a more personal one.

3 Shorts and A Bio


I tried to make movies and failed
But nobody who asked really wailed
Our technology's slow
And everyone knows
The reports where the suspects get nailed

Staying and hearing them talk
When no cars circle the block
Their tales made me smile
So I listened a while
And then back to the office I'd locked

The bullets all needed some sorting
But I had no way of exporting
In an orderly way
But the range trash saved the day
And no more loose ammo cavorting

- - - - - - - - - -

Who am I?
Husband? Yes.
Cop? Yes.
But...who?

Animal lover? Yes.
Poetry writer? Yes.
Picture taker? Yes.
But...who?

Tough guy? No.
Bad guy? No.
Mean guy? No.
But...who?

Angry man? No.
Quiet man? Yes.
Forceful man? No.
Smart man? Yes.

Who am I? Just a man...
Police man
Dog man
Reading man
Writing man
Loving man

September 25, 2011 - 0450

It was an uneventful last nights of my four day rotation. Which was a nice contrast to the craziness of the first night. Once in a while is fine, but I'm glad it isn't every night like we had the other night. We had a couple of calls, but one stuck out in my head. The poor guy has an extensive history with law enforcement, but that wasn't the real issue.

Fall Has Fallen, And Call Volume Has Too


As I sat in my office on a cool dark night
I wondered to myself, what should I write?
I didn't stop cars, I made no arrests
The usual drunkards were not acting like pests

There was the new issue with my assigned car
The steering was failing, so I didn't drive far
Or even too fast, in case it went out
And it certainly will, of that there's no doubt

We finally got called to a loud argument
My partner and I by the radio sent
But when I arrived there was no domestic
But only a man on a phone talking hectic

I stayed by myself and asked what was wrong
And was greeted by yelling and spit flying long
But it wasn't at me and wasn't his fault
A tumor caused volume control loss

We spoke a great deal and his problems were deep
He'd been victimized by the company he'd keep
The systems were bad and he had no support
From doctors, police or even the court

Thirty minutes I let him vent his frustration
Hoping that somehow it would help his situation
And when seemed calmer I said my farewell
Hoping he'd find some respite from his hell

As I got in my car I thought of my life
My home and my dogs and my loving wife
It made me feel grateful for all that I've got
And a little bit sad for a man who did not

September 23, 2011 - 0545

What a night! A huge contrast from the night before. My first night back had nothing. Only one car stop by anyone working and it was for a violation that I'm not sure I could use in my own head even though it's a legitimate offense.

Tonight was opposite night in town. It started off with me tired and heartburn-y, and ended with a "Wow!" story.

Oh What A Night


It started off slowly and I was tired
In a hazy funk my brain was mired
Hadn't slept well, mind was not wired
for working eight hours in it's entire

I saw a car coming, high beams on
Gave a fair warning then my lights came on
Not drunk in the car and so I was gone
This driver was not to be my pawn

Only minutes later a second car spied
With no lights on, on their expensive ride
Red and blue flashing slowed the tide
of a driver I soon discovered was fried

Some weed and a pipe on his person he had
He screamed for a lawyer, and then mom and dad
16 years old and out being bad
His mother showed up, she was not glad

Then a fight call in a nearby bar
We flew to the place in shiny black cars
A man with a knife had tried to run far
But being so drunk made him run like in tar

An argument only, there was no knife
The alleged victim wasn't in fear for his life
Now we're harassing and causing some strife
The smell of his booze-breath was very rife

with anger, hatred and fear
All of these things he explained in not so clear
words all slurred and stinking of beer
He gave us the finger all night far and near

Back again to the tavern for another drunk
She's hammered and has a stripe like a skunk
down the back of her coat, she tells me she's "crunk"
She bit a bouncer because "his hair stunk"

She didn't draw blood so we just made her go
Shooed into a cab, we ended the show
Would we be back? I didn't know
The craziness the night just continued to grow

A pair of drunk fellows, one in red one in black
Have stopped by the city hall on the train track
The dark dressed one is peeing with knack
And walking along trying not to get whacked

I scolded them both and sent them away
There were bigger things going on this day
They staggered along in a gentle sway
Away from the hustling fighting and fray

The bars all closed quickly and thought we were done
But the radio crackled with a bit more fun
A guy on a bike path trying not to run
I went to see what prize we had won

One of the drunks from my city hall stop
Was now all alone with a fair city cop
Wasted and high he couldn't walk or hop
The air his story cut like a martial arts chop

He shivered and shook  as he told his tale
of a small child in white and a ghostly female
Who'd said "Help me" by a bike locking rail
And then disappeared like a cloud in a gale

The ghost story was the perfect cap to a night
That lifted me from tired to a wide awake height
With a ticket in angry Army guys sight
And a scary story full of drunken fright

September 19, 2011 - 0430

Today I am 38 years old. I don't have any fancy plans, other than to get some rest and then spend the day with my wonderful wife. But I did have to work. We had one call all night in the rain, but it was a good one. A car had missed a turn in the road and ended up on the train tracks. The driver was not surprisingly arrested for DUI and I got to write about the entire thing.

I took some of the words in this rather long set from the Grandiloquent Dictionary. See if you can spot them.

A Birthday Car Crash/Arrest/Writing Experience


When the call came out it didn't take much for an
autotonsorialist like myself to think "DUI."

She was no beldam. In fact, she was young
and dressed for a night out.

Perhaps it was a
cacestogenous upbringing that
led her to drink.

One thing was for sure
she did not suffer from dipsophobia.
The car reeked of booze.

Upon our arrival, she began to
explaterate. We couldn't get a word in
edgewise.

Under arrest, she was taken away by my partner.
The sound of her car being towed off of
the tracks was fluctisonant.

It became obvious enough that
she was gambrinous. But where she had been
she would not say

We knew this would happen to her.
There was plenty to indicate the
hamartithia from her.

A check of her wallet
for bond money found her to be quite impecunious.

She began her jactancy
with us after a time. It didn't last long.

As she was being processed, she played with
her hair, causing a krobylos to come into being

When we did not believe her stories
she was overcome with lypothymia

She decided to "come clean" with us
and say who was really driving. But several
different stories made me think
she was simply practicing her mentimutation.

She started to nicitate
when we called her stories false. She knew
she'd been caught

As we got closer and closer to her
being released, her oenophlygia became
more and more apparent

We told her that driving drunk
was not the end of the world, but
maybe this would give her a mild case
of potophobia for a while

She was just a quean
There was time for her to
learn from this mistake

And though the third raith was almost over
The fourth had yet to begin.
She didn't listen to us

The alcohol had made
her saprostomous. Time for
her to go home

When told that she could
leave, she was overcome with
tachyphrasia, thanking us repeatedly

She ran from the station
like it was an utlesse, even though
she'd been set free

Walking up the sidewalk, she seemed
quite vauntie. And why not?
She was alive after all

I was happy she was unhurt.
But her drinking style will
lead to a wanweird I think.

Jail time and xerophagy
would do her some good

Too much more drinking and she'll end up
a yaud. Like so many others around town.

And another zob is not
what we need around here.

September 18, 2011 - 0415

I was given a pleasant surprise when I got in to work this evening. Four of us for the night shift. FOUR! Amazing! Of course, two were part time and one was the regular guy who does as little as possible. But this night, we were all actually trying to get into something. It just wasn't in the cards I guess, since we all came up empty. I did notice while I was getting my car washed that I had put 102 miles on the car in three days. It made me a little bit angry at myself, that in all of those miles I couldn't come up with anything. Maybe tomorrow.

Where Did I Really Go?


There was a bumper crop of cops in town
Four, up from three, up from two
A quarter of the town is still inaccessible by car
But, we made do

I tried to increase my numbers
It's not easy when you can't drive the streets of your own town
I was able to stop two cars
But nobody I stopped was a problem

Where I work isn't that big
Only 0.6 miles square
Yet, somehow I put
102 miles on the car in three days

Depending on what route I'd drive
That's a trip to Chicago and back
in the space of 0.6 miles square
I've driven a lot with nothing to show

September 17, 2011 - 0500

It's time for yet another festival in town. This one closes most of one of the major streets in the business district of the town. It's only a minor inconvenience for us (the police) to drive the side streets and adjacent lots to get where we need to go, but I can't imagine what would happen if there were a fire.

Despite this, a couple of the bars did well for themselves this night. Probably because it was a pain in the rear to get to others. One in particular had a large crowd, and we kept our trained eyes on this place so that they knew no shenanigans would be allowed.

But Is It Art?


A major street in town was closed tonight
This blocked some businesses and several homes
Nobody came to us and begged their plight
We knew not where they went, not where they roamed

A staggering blue shirt walked and kicked cones
I caught him just outside of a bears bar
We talked and his sorrow became well known
He was not from the town, he was from far

Some bars were busy but most were not full
Most closed early, tow stayed open late
Expecting trouble to one we all did roll
The fights and boobery we did abate

They say the town is too small for real crime
My answer is to say just give it time

September 16, 2011 - 0430

I took the last night of my shift off last week, because I worked 13.5 hours out of an 8.5 hour shift. And since I'd already put in a couple of 10 and 11 hour days last pay period, I decided to get some of that time back.

Tonight was a slow, chilly fall-like night. There were only a few people around, and they were not an issue. So to honor a slow, seemingly short night, I have Haiku.

Cold Night Haiku


My peer left early
Leaving me to drive the town
There was no one out

I gave out awards
Arresters of drunk drivers
All five were night shift

Inbox was quite full
Requests and follow-ups due
Surprised me for sure

We have some ammo
Not enough to qualify
No money for more

September 12, 2011 - 0345

You may think, given my profession and my love of it, that this would be a remembrance type post, for September 11, 2011. After all, I was a cop on that day 10 years ago. I wear the 9-11 bar on my uniform still, as a reminder of where I was and what I was doing. But this isn't that kind of post. I managed to make it all day without seeing too much from either extreme, liberal or conservative.

This is instead, a coverage of my last two days. My wife did a ride-along with me on Saturday, and I made sure it was worth her losing some sleep to see what happens at work. And Sunday was a pretty typical slow day. I did talk with some people, but overall it was a recovery day from the night before.

Drunk Drivers and Familiar Faces


My Baby came with me to ride and see
Who would be out in the little city
A Saturday filled with people galore
And a full moon to bring all the crazy to fore

As we drove and we talked a car we did see
Across the train tracks, no lights on had he
After speaking a moment he went on his way
I'm hunting for drunkards to arrest this day

Not too long after a second car flying
Red Ferrari was speeding, driver implied I was lying
But when no ticket was issued he changed his tune
'Cause it drunks I was hunting under the full moon

'Twas an hour long gap til the next car we bother
Not stopping at signage, said that she'd rather
Apologize now, which she did in a flash
Her car smelled delicious, French fries in the dash?

As we pulled away, an illegally parked truck
I scratch out the ticket for a quick city buck
And there at the wheel, my passed out drunk driver
An easy arrest, a definite high-fiver

His tests and my banter made Baby laugh
The driver smelled awful, like he'd taken a bath
in funky cologne and cheap warm beer
Hauled away, then his car on a tow truck disappeared

He couldn't perform the last simple test
One one ticket, out the door with the rest
of the people still milling all over the town
Blending back in, another drunk faceless clown

A couple more hours and I was going home
To my wife and my dogs right where I belong
Wonder what the next night would hold
On a Sunday? Not much the truth be told

Night two was a contrast in black and white
Starkly different that yesterdays busy night
Making my laps and looking at faces
Glazed over by booze in the usual places

My ear was bent as I sat quiet thinking
By a businessman who had NOT been drinking
Venting about the local town councilmen
And decisions they'd made that had impacted him

He went on his way and I then saw a face
One that had not been seen lately in this place
Quick stories exchanged and then on his way
And to keep driving to finish my day

September 7, 2011 - 0415

These have been getting earlier as time goes on. Maybe I'm getting better at what I do. Naaaah, I don't think that's it. But it has been easy writing these past few poems. That's inspiring to me, since it wasn't exactly a walk in the park when I started.

I was another quiet night on the shift, with the excitement coming from outside the department. It wouldn't be proper for me to elaborate, but suffice it to say that there were smiles and jokes and lots of laughter at the station when I came in.

I decided to write a short ode to my shift and to police in general. If you're a police officer reading this, you can definitely relate to working the midnight shift, and coming home after a weekly rotation to the family.

Ode To Night Time Peacekeepers


I made it through another week
And though the bad guys I did seek
We only locked up two fair rogues
How many left, Bog only knows

The weather changing has an effect
Warm to cold means those who're wrecked
Don't walk or drive, but usually cab
Making working long and a boring drag

But I'm sworn to drive the streets
And wave and smile to those I meet
No matter wind or rain or cold
We tarry forth, forever bold

Warriors of the gold and blue
Upholding justice, standing true
Against potential chaos ringing
The law breakers their melee bringing

Fear and sadness to the folk
And towards this we go, though rains may soak
Or wind cut deeply to the bone
We fight the evil until it's done

And to our families loving arms
We settle to, where there is no harm
Only safety and warmth this perk
'Til the next nights unknown work

September 6, 2011 - 0415

This is a shorty, because there was only one stop all night. Granted, it ended with a DUI arrest but there was no one in town and no one to mess with. So here's a single limerick that covers the entire night.

One Stop, One Arrest


The night was slow and quite cold
And on one was out acting bold
One drove after drinking
Just what was he thinking
To the jail my partners car rolled

September 5 2011 - 0500

This is a twofer. I got a little busy last night (9/3-4) as you will read and ran out of time in my regular shift to write some verses. As it turned out, I had plenty of time, but I was tired and decided to combine yesterday and today. Today was typical. And by typical, I mean not a damn thing went on all night.

This form is called an English Quintain. It's five lines per stanza, with an easy to follow rhyme scheme and no syllabic meter. Makes for easy writing in the that respect, but not so much in the rhyming.

Two For The Price of One


My first night back and I was trapped
Long talking, but not saying a thing
I was tired, though I had napped
Hoping for info I let him sing
And his paranoia did not cling

After moving illegally parked cars I drove
Stopped two more hoping for a drinker
But nothing doing near our cove
One was cheerful, little stinker
The other a more solemn thinker

A simple drive then turned to chaos
Fighting men and lots of bleeding
What a scene to come across
An ambulance I was needing
Their medical advice he was not heeding

Difficulty finding someone
A day shifter called out ill
I stayed over myself, there was no one
The city doesn't foot the bill
I don't dip into their meager till

Tonight by contrast was a snore
A few people around but not many
Staying active became a chore
But cool air we had aplenty
The open windows they did help me

September 1, 2011 - 0400

This one is early, because I wrote it fast. No other reason, it just flowed this morning, despite the usual "there was nothing going on, blah blah blah". And it's a sonnet, in iambic pentameter too!

A Rosarian Sonnet to be exact. Easy and familiar rhyme scheme and the 10 syllable meter that we all know and love. I got out of the station pretty quickly tonight, only 75 minutes spent with my peer. It made him frustrated that I knew all of his stories before he told them to me. Of course that didn't prevent him from telling them all again, as well as rehashing his "theory" about how the department will be gone soon.

Summer Is Still Hanging On


My peer's paranoia is known in town
Despite what he says I still cannot frown
It's a warm night and I love what I do
He left fairly early as I went out
To check on the town, see who was about

The usual places were all lit up
Beer flowing but no DUI stops
The warm air made me uncomfortable too
September is supposedly the fall
Down my back, under armor, sweat did crawl

The end of my week, first one back in town
Stories were traded by them and by me
Good or bad this job is where I should be
Not much goes on here that can get me down